


Good

by ficteer



Series: abemiha ship week 2k16 [1]
Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 14:17:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7108627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficteer/pseuds/ficteer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abe knew the exact shape of one word in Mihashi’s mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good

**Author's Note:**

> SO THERE’S THIS THING CALLED ABEMIHA SHIP WEEK GOING ON APPARENTLY and of course i’m gonna get on in that action so ACCORDINGLY here is a fill for day 1, “praise”. wow. this is some Spicy Abemiha™. 
> 
> specific discussion of things lies in the tags but cw: light d/s, negotiated praise kink, porn with feelings, etc. etc., about what you’d expect if someone handed sam ficteer a prompt involving the word ‘praise’ around abemiha. this is not the praise kink fic that abemiha deserves, but it is the one i can provide on such short notice on a work night. ten thousand apologies.
> 
> thanks to the ship week folks for putting this together!!!!! they can be found over [here](http://oofurishipweeks.tumblr.com/)! also, second shoutout to myra for posting her art on twitter so i could be like WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S AN ABEMIHA SHIP WEEK and regurgitate this filth. love u myra xoxoxoxoxo
> 
> enjoy!!!

 

If pressed, Abe would probably say it had started about a year ago, hands full with cups of warm cocoa and breath puffing clouds in Mihashi’s face as he huddled close.

“You warm enough?” he’d asked Mihashi, pressing one of the cups into mittened hands. His eyes had drifted lazily over Mihashi’s face, looking for any sign of discomfort in his pitcher. The idiot had stayed out for three hours just the day before practicing in the snow, muttering out his apologies with a stubborn lower lip while Abe had spent the rest of the evening rubbing warmth back into all-important fingertips. But at that time, Mihashi’s face had looked content, cheeks pink and lips curled into a smile that had Abe’s body as warm as the chocolate between his palms.

“Mmm, I’m okay,” Mihashi had said, bringing the cup up to his mouth. A delicate sip left cream on Mihashi’s upper lip, pink tongue darting out to chase the sweetness and stealing every sliver of attention Abe had. Then, a soft sound of a sigh - pleasure, satisfaction, soft and low and secret between them - “This is _really --_ Mmm, this is so _good_ , Abe-kun.”

 _“_ Yeah?” Abe had said, own lips chapped and breath stuttering out in shaky clouds that caressed Mihashi’s unreadable expression. He hadn’t known, then, what it meant for those golden eyes to go just a little wide, a little startled like he didn’t know what was happening either, freckles disappearing just a hint behind a flowery pink matching Mihashi’s parted lips.

“Yeah,” Mihashi had responded, ever so carefully, so purposefully that even stunned as he was, Abe felt the way Mihashi’s fingers reached out and curled in the hem of his jacket, where anyone could see, where anyone could misunderstand what was - “Yeah, good.”

A slow breath of air left Abe’s mouth, pathetic and followed by a sound he hadn’t known that he could make. “Good,” he’d repeated, shivers beneath three layers chasing the bead of sweat as it traced his spine.

\---------- 

Over the next week, Abe had taken his mother’s laptop into his bedroom, put it on the desk, shut the door, and placed just enough dirty laundry in front of it to hinder anyone bursting in. Then, heart racing and fingers hovering over the keyboard, Abe tried to put it all into words.

The way his skin tightened every time Mihashi smiled at him, the way his stomach would undulate every time Mihashi’s fingers carded through his bangs to press a soft kiss to his forehead, the way his muscles would jerk and still when Mihashi would arrange him just so for cuddling. The way Mihashi only ever had to ask for something once. The way Abe hesitated after doing whatever it was - bringing him a water, holding his hand, turning off the light - breath held, heart pounding, waiting, _waiting_ for... for _something._

The way Abe knew the exact shape of one word in Mihashi’s mouth.

_\----------_

_Praise kink_ , the literature said, his Google search history swiped every hour as his face burned through multiple iterations of ‘what does it mean if i get turned on when my boyfriend calls me good’, ‘i really like it when my boyfriend pets my hair and tells me what to do?’, and ‘i like it when my boyfriend says good things about me’. There were all kinds of blogs and articles, with pictures and diagrams and links to Amazon’s darker corners and words like _safeword_ and _consent_ and _communication_.

(A voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Izumi’s laughed for a good ten minutes at the last one, because _communication is important between a catcher and his pitcher, Abe-kun!_ )

“So, you... you like it? When I say that stuff?” Mihashi asked, that evening after Abe had finally had a month of practicing the confession while brushing his teeth, chanting _communication, communication, communication_ while flossing around his back molars.

“Yeah,” Abe said, closing his eyes to savor the shimmery feeling of Mihashi’s fingertips ghosting over the back of his arms. Mihashi-san’s detergent smelled different when it was on Mihashi’s bed, on his clothes, than it did on her dishtowels when Abe helped clean up after meals. He let his body sink into it, took the warmth of Mihashi’s curled up figure against him and sank into a space where he and Mihashi were the only people in the world and it was okay to say things like _I have a praise kink and I want you to use it against me._ “It’s... not weird, is it?”

Mihashi made a soft sound and the bed rustled, letting Abe know he’d shaken his head. Mihashi shuffled a bit closer, tangling their legs together, fingertips turning into fingernails, shimmery feelings into quivers. “It’s nice,” Mihashi said, voice soft and catching on the dust dancing in the stream of late afternoon sunlight coming in through the window. “I like saying those things, too. It... It makes me feel good, knowing that I can make you feel good.”

Abe was no stranger to crying in front of Mihashi, not after two and a half years of baseball, but somehow, it felt even more okay here, the warm stretch of Mihashi’s collarbones beneath his lips and the smell of his soap filling Abe’s lungs with peace. He shifted his head, just a bit, just enough so he could rest his head on Mihashi’s chest, leaning into the pull of fingers in his hair and enjoying the accidental tug at his scalp.

“Can you do it?” Abe asked, swallowing thickly, _consent, consent._

Mihashi’s fingers tightened, pulling a little harder. His hand shook - but only for a moment.

“I will... if you’re good.”

\----------

This was Abe’s favorite position.

Mihashi liked it best when Abe was on his back, legs wrapped around Mihashi’s milky hips and fingernails leaving crescents on Mihashi’s thighs to pull him in deeper, leave enough room for Mihashi’s teeth to sink into Abe’s lower lip and linger there like a pitch to the gut. Mihashi liked being able to see the way Abe loved getting fucked, deep and hard and just a touch on the edge of fast, forcing him to tighten his abs and lift his hips enough for Mihashi’s fingers to trace the cut of his hips reverently.

But tonight - tonight they’d won, no-hitter under their belt and Abe dizzy with it when Mihashi’s fingers had reached out and curled into the belt loop at his hip and pulled him close on the mound.

“Takaya,” he’d said, voice too soft for the screaming elation of everyone rushing in - _Koshien, they were going to Koshien!_ \- “You were so _good_.”

Abe closed his eyes and hissed a silent blessing that he was wearing a cup. They were on _television_ , for fuck’s sake. Not that it mattered, not now, not when _Koshien_ and - “Ren - ”

The rest was smothered by the pile of teammates on Mihashi, arms dragging Abe into the sweaty, gross pile of people he’d bled with to get to this point. His blood ran hot, victory bleeding into the anticipation of whatever reward was behind the rising pink of Mihashi’s high cheek bones.

“What do you want, Takaya?” Mihashi had asked while hovering over Abe’s well-bitten nipples, however long ago it had been - God, he had no fucking idea how long it had been - and Abe, vibrating, aching, rested a soft hand over Mihashi’s heart and pushed, just enough.

“Your favorite?” Mihashi had asked, pulling back, a soft, fond expression like an orgasm to Abe’s already-wrecked body.

“Is that okay?” Abe asked, leaning up, tracing a thumb over a swollen lower lip. Mihashi closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to the pad of Abe’s thumb and then letting it feel his smile.

“Yeah. You earned it, Takaya.”

Abe had flipped onto his stomach, and Mihashi leaned down, covering him, pressing head to toe, hard cock resting hotly against Abe’s ass and the strong muscles in his arm quivering to keep him up. Abe felt the movement of Mihashi’s body as he settled into place, shivered as Mihashi’s muscles moved against his own, their angles butting together until the sweat smoothed everything out.

“You were so good tonight,” Mihashi said, nosing at Abe’s ear as he rocked his hips gently into Abe’s. “Your calls were perfect, not letting anyone hit one of my pitches. You studied them and knew them so well, you knew exactly what to call for, even when I’d shake my head and tell you to try again.”

Mihashi loved fucking Abe, and it was definitely amazing - Mihashi’s fingers caressing his prostrate like the threads of a baseball, warming him up like he’s a pitch to practice, sinking deep inside and only touching Abe’s cock if he hasn’t come by the time Mihashi’s spilling inside. He liked getting fucked by Abe, too, made pretty sounds when Abe could suck him off and finger him at the same time, liked riding him and never able to keep quiet about the mountainous girth of Abe’s thighs beneath him.

But this - _this_ was _Abe’s_ favorite. Pressing up into Mihashi’s chest by raising onto his elbows, tilting his head to give Mihashi the room to suck on his throat, spreading his legs just enough for Mihashi’s perfect, perfect cock to slide between his legs and slide along his balls. It was electrifying, feeling smothered and hot all over, the way he could feel every muscle in Mihashi’s body working for the sole purpose of fucking him. And, of all the positions they’d tried, this one got Mihashi feeling the most confident, got his lips loose enough to say the kinds of things that had Abe burning from the inside out. Things like, “You feel so _good_ , Takaya, I want to do this _forever_ ,” and “Koshien, Koshien, we’re going to _Koshien,_ everyone’s going to see how good we are together, how good _you_ are, _Takaya_ ,” and “Love you, love you, _love you love you -_ ”

Mihashi’s movements got sloppier the closer he came to coming, one hand snatching to Abe’s hip and letting his whole weight settle on Abe’s back. Abe arched his spine as much as he could, lifted his hips, spread his legs as much as he could with Mihashi straddling them, gave himself over for Mihashi to use, tilted his head so Mihashi’s head could tuck into the space between neck and shoulder that he _loved_ biting. “Come on, Ren, come, I want you to come,” he gasped, fingers curling in the sheets beneath them and Mihashi’s wrecked pants hot against his ear. “Please, Ren, _please come._ ”

“N-No, you gotta - ” Mihashi managed, breathless, scratches singeing Abe’s side and sending him into a deep space between them. “Takaya, Taka, love you, so _good, come on - ”_

Abe felt his head snap back as his hips bucked desperately, moving into Mihashi’s movements and rutting against the bed, too hot for his skin. His eyes squeezed shut, nerves alive and screaming with tension as he felt the pull of his balls up, felt his orgasm coming, clenched tight and, “God, _Ren_ , I’m gonna - fucking _explode - ”_

He heard Mihashi choke out a sob of his name, felt the splatter of come between his legs and matched it with his own, fucked up hard against Mihashi and stilled so Mihashi could thrust just a few more times like he liked, milking his orgasm and getting his come all around Abe’s thighs. Abe shivered, dizzy and wrought and feeling like he’d just played a whole series and _won_ it. Mihashi was heavy against him, all of his weight sunk deep into Abe’s skin, sweaty skin barely keeping the panting pitcher in one body.

Mihashi’s hand slowly released Abe’s shoulder, blood rushing into the spot and likely leaving a bruise in the shape of his pitcher’s handprint. He flushed at the thought, then slowly drew his lower lip between his teeth as Mihashi gently explored between Abe’s legs, fingers tracing through come and spreading it around. He closed his eyes, shivered hard, released a slow and long breath when Mihashi’s fingers slipped between Abe’s tensed ass and pressed gently inside. It was just to the first knuckle, just one finger, but Abe quivered, toes curling, losing himself for just a moment as his jaw dropped open and his skin burst into light.

“Shhhh,” Mihashi cooed, voice loud in the room despite the fact that both of their panting was loud enough to fill it all. “I just want to - ”

“Yeah, I know,” Abe said, forcing the words out, settling still, taking the finger all the way, wondering if he was just imagining the way he could _tell_ Mihashi was using _his_ come as lube. “I’m ready.”

A second finger, an inquisitive press against his prostate that had him rocking forward, then back, _hard_. It was slick - Mihashi must have come a lot, come all _over_ him, like - like Abe had -

“Yeah,” Mihashi said, drawing back his fingers and painting Abe’s hip with his come before settling back against him. “Lie down, Takaya.” Abe settled, and Mihashi tucked into place, lips pressed between his shoulder blades in the shape of a smile that was already half asleep.

“Was it...?” Abe managed, blinking through wet eyelashes as he tried to remember how to breathe.

“Yeah,” Mihashi said again, arching his hips once, slowly, before stilling again. “It was good.”

\----------

A beautiful spring day filled Abe’s nose, cherry blossoms dancing in the breeze and the sounds of a city all around him. The university gates loomed, and he stood, books hanging heavily on his shoulder, hands full with two pretzels - lightly salted, freshly warmed.

He leaned into the gentle press at his side, extended his left hand and watched Mihashi’s calloused fingers pluck at the bread to bring it to a pink, wet mouth. He stared until Mihashi looked up and smiled, identical bag mirrored on his other shoulder, face open and bright as the endless blue sky above.

“How is it?” Abe asked, after Mihashi took a bite, chewed slowly, and swallowed. He felt the smile, watched as one grew on Mihashi’s face in perfect concert with the tangle of their fingers and their first step forward.

“It’s good.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
